


Gravity Falls: Ode To Omega

by Selfabsorbedpig



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Attempt at Humor, Canon - Comics & Cartoon Combination, Dipcifica, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gravity Falls Oregon, Gravity Falls: Ode To Omega, Humor, Opposites Attract, Post-Gravity Falls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selfabsorbedpig/pseuds/Selfabsorbedpig
Summary: We live. We die.We are weak and wry.Nothing but flesh and bones.But when death comes knockingAnd we say goodbye,Our legacy is set in stone...Weirdmaggedon brought Gravity Falls to a close, and upon their return, Dipper and Mabel find it is just as weird as when they left. Something lay ticking, however, under that lazy town. They don't know it yet but it will lead them back to where it all began - An ode to Omega.This series depicts life after Weirdmageddon for Mabel and Dipper. There's some chaos, some turmoil and pain, and even some romance (*cough* Pacifica *cough*) so stay tuned!
Relationships: Dipcifica - Relationship, Pacifica Northwest & Dipper Pines, Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Comments: 30
Kudos: 43





	1. Return to Gravity Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on outside of Gravity Falls, but boy is it so much more boring...
> 
> Enjoy!

The wonky Water Tower slowly dropped behind the never-ending swathe of Pine Trees-a final testament to the existence of the small town fading into the monotonous shade of the forest. As the water tower sunk out of view, Dipper Pines could not help but question whether the adventures of the last few months actually took place.

Without the water tower, without the Northwest mansion, without the mystery shack, everything seemed so far fetched. No one would ever acknowledge the grazes, the scars or the horrors that originated from that place. The end of the world had soared past the lazy town with such speed and violence, but yet again no one would ever realise how close to the apocalypse they had really strayed; the heroism of Dipper and his friends would go forever unappraised, and the potential danger never recognised by the wider world. Even the town's populace denied any of it ever happened...

He was ripped from his shallow nap when the bus shook violently, breaking this train of thought, and dragging him back to reality, and the mundane destination the bus was headed towards. He clasped tightly to the now slightly crumpled note he held in his hand. Excluding the clearly insane stories the twins had accumulated over the summer, that piece of paper was the only evidence that Gravity Falls and it's crazy happenings ever occured. 

With the stature of a royal, and the mannerisms of a pig, a disgruntled Waddles trotted up the aisle of the gum sodden bus, huffing haughtily as he made his way to the back where Dipper lay strewn across several of the seats. Following closely behind, Mabel pulled herself towards him using the tops of the worn chairs, outwardly happy to those who didn't know her, but the nature of her facade evident from Dipper's point of view. She was social, unrelenting in her affection and friendship, so it came of no surprise to Dipper that being seperated from her friends in Gravity Falls would have a severe effect on her for some time to come.

The chunky pig reached the back of the bus and attempted to vault his rotound torso up onto the seats to the feet of Dipper, but as anyone but the pig himself could have predicted, it was not to be-his legs were simply too stumpy, and his trotters too well manicured and "bedazzled" to gain any notion of purchase. Mabel took pity on her porky pall, and hoisted the pig's chunky frame up onto the seats, placing him down with yet another disgruntled huff from Waddles as he situated himself to look down the aisle of the bus, like some sort of king. Mabel sat down next to him, cramming herself into the other corner of the bus as she broke the heavy silence, 

"I don't want to leave bro."

After a second or two, Dipper sighed in surrender and spoke for the first time on the bus. "Nor do I Mabel, but there's just no other way. Mom and Dad won't let us stay, and we still have to go to school and everything back home. I'm trying to work out how to convince them to come let us stay here, but I just don't see how." He furrowed his brows and went back to his catatonic state of misery and desperate thought. 

"Can't we just go to school here? Our friends are here, and I don't think the school is _that_ bad. I'm sure Grankle Stan would let us stay with him if we did more around the shack. Maybe if I beg them super super _super_ hard..." she posed, looking hopefully out of the windows at the sprinkling of pine trees that now littered the landscape. 

Dipper was content with silence. He chose to simply wallow in the imaginary oasis that Mabel proposed. He could go to Gravity Falls High School, spend time with Wendy and the gang, continue with Ford's research, and maybe even develop some of his own? To be frank, he couldn't see it happening. His parents would have to uproot their careers, their home, leave everything behind for something that would seem so ludicrous to everyone but the twins themselves. They knew what treasures lay buried within the invisible jurisdiction of Gravity Falls, but their Mom and Dad were oblivious.

The bus ride continued with little to note, with few words thrown between the twins. There was an air of sullen acceptance between the two. There was little that they could do, but that didn't stop them from devising devious methods to twist their fate, and land them back in where they felt they belonged. Regardless, soon the sparse landscape began to fill with the notes of urban life: houses began to trickle past, eventually that trickle became a torrent, and Piedmont came into view, bringing all manner of feelings rushing along with it. 

Mabel had her face smooshed against the window, and Waddles similarly so, apparently intrigued by the completely alien environment that streamed past their widow, and the spent bubblegum crammed into the corner of the frame. Dipper had inevitably fallen asleep against the bus widow, his body slumped into the corner and contorted in an uncomfortable fashion. He was jolted back to life by an attacker, clad in rainbow and braces, and shaken rudely awake.

"Dipper we're here! Get your butt up!" She squealed, practically bouncing off the walls as her troubles were temporarily forgotten. Waddles stared at Mabel with what looked like bemusement in his piggy chops, mirroring Dipper's reaction almost perfectly as he began to make sense of what surrounded him. 

"Mom! Mom! It's me Mabel!"

And with that, she was gone, suitcase and sweater arms flying behind her like contrails. Waddles practically fell off the back seat, followed by a drowsy Dipper, whose urban hair lay flat against the side of his head where he had laid slumped against the window. With a cumulative lack of enthusiasm, they both dragged themselves off the bus with little grace nor dignity to see Mabel choking the life out of her mother. 

Despite the late-afternoon Piedmont was hot, blistering compared to the climate of Gravity Falls, and Dipper began to sweat profusely as soon as he stepped onto the pale pavement. More so than usual at least. Mabel finally relented, and Dipper finally felt the warm embrace of his Mom for the first time in months. He couldn't deny that he missed Piedmont and his family, who wouldn't? The home cooked meals a delicacy compared to the rations Stan kept finding at the shack; a warm duvet that could bend and fold softly around him at night, as opposed to the one that somehow cracked and buckled in his attic bedroom; and of course his parents, one of whom was showering his daydreaming head with love and affection. 

"You've grown so much Dipper! Look at you, you're almost up to my shoulders now!" his Mom cooed, tilting his head every which way and inspecting him closely. Mabel ran past the two of them, quickly returning with Waddles stuffed between her arms. 

"MOM! Waddles meet Mom, Mom meet Waddles-pet pig extraordinaire!" she said, thrusting Waddles between Dipper and his mother. 

"Ah hello you little devil. I've heard so much about you from Great Uncle Ford..." she teased, trying desperating to contain the wiggling mass of pork without dropping him. "Since Ford hasn't cooked you yet, I can only assume you are one hell of a piggy. You are however, not sleeping in the house." She poked Waddles in his plump stomach, before plopping him down onto their front lawn. 

"Aww please? He gets lonely outside without his bestest friend!"

"Nope darling sorry. I have no clue where to put this porker outside, let alone anywhere indoors" she finished definitively. "Your Dad's inside by the way if you haven't forgotten him. He's just taking a call." 

The trio were herded inside, Mabel and Waddles already running riot around the property, leaving a trail of hoof prints and glitter in their wake and Dipper followed closely behind, his thoughts overcome by the infectious enthusiasm of those around him. They made a beeline for their parents' office, Mabel kicking down the door in clear disregard for subtlety, the pig backing her up.

"Harvey watch out!" Michelle warned, but it was too late.

Their father spun around in his chair. "Jesus Chr-".

He was tacked by a succession of love and craziness, tipping him backwards out of the chair. The phone went flying across the room as Mabel, Waddles, and shortly Dipper all took turns treading over their toppled father, poking and prodding him till a smile overcame the shock and their affection was returned with a chuckle. "Thanks for the warning you three. I was mid conversation there. I'm very happy to see you all too." He joked, tussling their hair in turn and returning things to their original place in the room before the tornado of energy swept through, giving Waddles a quick scratch to acknowledge the new addition to the family. Dominance asserted, the pig trotted of snorting and huffing to himself to undoubtedly consume something inedible, leaving the reunited family to converse as they moved into the lounge. 

After an hour or two of catching up, things began to return to normal: Dipper completed some chores around the house, Mabel taught Waddles some table etiquette, and they talked of the past summer and what they had all gotten up to-overlooking the apocalypse of course, but telling tales instead of the parties they had, the friends they had made (and left behind, Dipper couldn't help but remind himself) and the joys that awaited them next year.

They were happy, but they knew at heart that they could be happier. School went past in a blur as they struggled to adjust to the customs of the outside world and as weird as it sounded, weird was their normal, their comfort zone. Without it, something just felt... Off. Their friends could distract them, their homework could occupy them, but every time Mabel looked at her porky friend she was reminded of the fair where he'd started his new life; every time Dipper opened his sock draw and saw his own jornal buried under his clothes he couldn't help but consider what majesty those blank pages could be filled with if only they were at the Mystery Shack. It wasn't easy, but life for the twins slogged on as if nothing ever happened, until Thanksgiving came along at least. 

The term was coming to a close and their final day was filled with little to nothing productive-simply filler lessons where they watched movies or created posters to pass the time. The bus dropped them off outside their house in Piedmont, and they were promptly greeted by an excited pig that had begun to wag it’s curly tail like a puppy in recent weeks. Mabel grabbed Waddles and carried him inside like the royalty he was, shortly followed by Dipper whose head was buried deep within the realms of a book on ghosts. He might know his house like the back of his hand, but he still managed to walk into several door frames and countertop corners as if he were blind. 

He was pulled back to reality however, when his normally work hardy father was seen to be seated at the dining room table, deep in conversation with his mom with Mabel listening intently to the side. He had clearly only caught the tail end of a long conversation.

“We had plans here though Harvey. We were going to host a party and everything! What about all our friends? I didn’t even know Stanley existed!” His mom protested, striking an uncanny resemblance to her daughter with her tone and body language.

“I know, I know… I’ll admit, I thought Stan was in an accident, and never really heard much about him so I guessed it was fatal. I never really spent that much time with him anyway, and you and the kids didn’t even know he existed until now, so I’d love for us all to get to know him somewhat. Plus, the kids loved it so much down there too, I wanna see what all of the fuss is about as well.” He looked ashamed for, Dipper assumed, failing to mention his mysterious uncle to any of them at all in the past.

“It’s only for a week or two, then we'll be back up here and we can hold all of the parties at Christmas?” Harvey pleaded.

With a sigh, their mother conceded, and turned to the twins. “Kids, if you can’t tell already, your Great Uncle Stanford called while you were at school and asked, very strongly I might add, whether we all wanted to come and stay down in Gravity Falls for the break. He said that a “Great Uncle Stanley” was there as well, whose very existence is news to me, so you’ll have a chance to meet him just as I will.” Michelle finished, very clearly confused, but resigned to sacrifice her Christmas plans for this new family member.

Mabel screamed. Well and truly squealed with delight. Waddles clearly decided this was his chance, and joined the cacophony of noise that racked their ears. Dipper in contrast, dropped his book on ghosts, ironically just as if he’d seen one come to fruition in front of him. They’d gotten back into the swing of things, and accepted the year that separated them from their second family. But they couldn’t have hoped that a trip, however short, would come this soon. 

“Yes. YeS. YES!” Mabel finished, dropping Waddles, hugging each of her parents in turn before darting off up the stairs, leaving with a barely audible “I’m going to pack…”

“I’m… gonna go get my stuck together then,” Dipper said, eyes darting back and forth between his parents and the stairs as he edged backward. There must be a catch, nothing this good could come so soon. But with smiles and nods from both his parents, Dipper bounced up the stairs and began cramming what little he needed into a backpack. 

“I get the feeling we’re going to regret this,” Harvey said with a grimace. “By the looks of things we had better leave tomorrow or Mabel's going to run there herself. I’ll get the suitcases from the attic.”

And with that, the Pines family prepared for a short-notice trip to Gravity falls. Dipper was ready by dinner, and had his rucksack filled with his journal and other bare necessities; Mabel had two suitcases and a pig - all mediums for sweater transportation; their parents were sensible and carried the happy medium.

They had a brief dinner where only quick glances of excitement between Dipper and Mabel were shared and grabbed as much sleep as they could get. After stacking everything into the back of their SUV, they left at sunrise and didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> The Pines family journey to Gravity Falls, and the twins have some explaining to do...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	2. New Names And Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're back, and more bedazzled than ever...
> 
> Enjoy!

They traveled north for about 6 hours and contrary to their destination, their journey was nothing special. The twins stared out of the windows in anticipation, suitcases crammed between the two of them with another more piggy passenger perched atop them. Neither could sleep, they were simply too excited. So Dipper and Mabel passed the time by catching up on local news, playing eye spy with Waddles (which was surprisingly difficult), or telling tales of the Gobblewonker. They figured that their parents would encounter something weird and wacky at some point, so it was best to prepare them somewhat by passing on their expert knowledge of local lore and trivia. Hopefully their Grunkles would have a plan for when they got there...

Soon the pine trees they’d seen disperse on their bus trip to Piedmont slowly come back into view, darkening the road ahead by filling its flanks in densely packed timber that seemed to hold up the deep November sky. The forest would thin out once in a while to facilitate the houses and shops that were sprinkled along the roads, and it seemed like no time had passed at all before they were driving through the lazy town of Gravity Falls, familiar sights greeting them at every corner. 

They turned the final corner, and the Mystery Shack came into view, with a new addition: stationed to the left of their new home lay a crudely constructed… shed? It was hard to put into words what exactly the logged building was meant to represent, but it had darkened windows at irregular intervals, a wonky roof, and walls so thick they could survive a bomb blast. To be honest, Dipper thought it looked just right next to the Mystery Shack with it’s now remounted, but slanted “S” and battered porch.

Michelle brought the SUV to a stop, and honked the horn to alert Stan that the clown car had arrived. Dipper doubted the sound so much as reached the door before Mabel burst through it, a stifled yell emanating from the opening shortly after the sparkle bomber’s unorthodox entrance. Gruncle Stan staggered out to the porch with Mabel hanging like a monkey from his neck in a crude piggy back. 

“Dipper Dipper look it’s Grunkle Stan!” Mabel said proudly as if she’d captured some rare animal. 

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper said, hugging his torso and adding to the burden of weight hanging limply from the old man's frame. 

“Hey kid.” Stan rasped through Mabel’s sleeper hold as he tried to pry her off, “Where’s your parents? I have something that belongs to them that I’d like to return”

The remaining Pines turned stepped up onto the porch, and after crowbarring the twins off the tired Gruncle, followed Stan through into the living room to start what Dipper thought would be some confusing discourse.

“Hey kids, why don’t you go out and explore for a bit. We’re just going to talk to your parents for a bit ok? Be back before dark though, I’m gonna get the Weiner Roaster going dinner.” Stan said, shooing them out into the afternoon air.

“Heck yes!” Mabel yelled, her smile reaching even more astronomical heights. Suddenly her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You stay away from Waddles Grunkle Stan, I don’t want to find my best friend in a burger...” and with that, she backed out of the door, dragging her brother by the arm. Dipper made quick eye contact with Stan, conveying a silent “I don’t know what you’re doing, but good luck”. He had no idea how Stan would explain the identity theft, much less anything else that happened that summer, whilst omitting all of their near death experiences. He tried to tell himself he needn’t worry though-he knew between the two older twins, Ford and Stan must have devised a plan to explain  **almost** everything.

And with that, the twins were gone, stopping at the car to change sweaters to something with extra glitter (you have to make good second first-impressions Mabel later explained) and to don Dippers backpack.

“We’re back bro-bro! Let’s go find some unicorns or some centaurs or a cute vampire!” Mabel squealed with excitement, already disappearing into the shrubbery of the forest. 

With the lumberjack hat on his head, and adventure in his heart, Dipper followed his sister into the woods, speaking to himself idly:

“Boy have I missed this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> Gnomes, a Northwest, and Nirvana-all on the first day...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	3. Gnomes, a Northwest, and Nirvana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful steed, astray in the unforgiving maze of pine. Its rider is nowhere to be found...
> 
> Have an amazing day, and I hope you enjoy reading!

Dipper had to jog to catch up to Mabel. He thought it odd that she was so suddenly enthused with energy for monster hunting as this wasn’t really her “thing”, but he wasn’t going to argue. When he thought about it, he spent most of that summer alone, wandering the forest in solitude talking to himself and scribbling in one jornal or another. Not necessarily a bad thing mind you - it was sometimes nice to be alone with just him and his thoughts, but it did get lonely from time to time, so it might be nice to have a partner in crime for an adventure or two. Another pair of hands would prove useful should he need to catch an organi-

“OH. MY. GOSH.” Mabel yelled up from, behind a grove of trees that separated the twins. Dipper had been so immersed in an abyss of thought that he had failed to take note of their bearing or thier displacement. He realised to late that he had no clue where he and Mabel were. They were lost.

There was a compass in his bag, and he had no doubt he could navigate his way through the labyrinth of trunks - this wasn’t the first time he’d gotten distracted in the woods afterall - but if he wanted to get a share of the sausages at the shack they had best not go deeper.

He pushed through a incricate tangle of branches and stubbled out onto Mabel in a small clearing, who was captivated by what looked like a realistic marble sculpture. 

“Dipper look!” she whispered “It’s a tiny horsey! I’m going to take it home with me and make a little stable and make a sweater for it an-”

“What the…” Dipper looked again, and she was right. It was a very good looking steed, white and brushed from head to toe (hoof?) with a saddle hanging limply from it’s back and it's reins in a similar state of abandonment. It was maybe a foot or two tall, and he decided it was a pedigree of some sort as he examined the horse's mannerisms closley whilst it trasped about the forest floor, grazing and eyeing Mabel with suspicion. 

“Mabel we have to capture it. I’ve never seen anything like this before in the forest so either it’s a new species that I haven't seen yet - which I doubt - or it had a run in with the Enlargement Crystals. Let me just take a note in my journal.” Dipper’s mind was already racing. If it was an undiscovered species then why hadn’t he seen any before? Why did this tiny horse have a saddle? Where’s it’s rider? What’s it doing in the middle of nowhere?

It was at this point the difference between the two siblings became clear. One was logical and thought out, more content to ponder the implications of his actions before seeing them through; the other however, prefered a more proactive approach...

Before Dipper realised what was happening, the star spangled girl had taken a small step, and launched herself at the unsuspecting animal in a less than tasteful maneuver. With a winnie the horse darted away, heading deeper into the woods. Dipper was in no place to intervene with his hands in his backpack. 

Mabel landed heavily on her front with a grunt, arms blindly flying in front of her in an endeavour to catch a rein. She succeeded, one finger slipping through a gap in the horse's tiny reins, scarcely stopping it’s escape, dragging it back towards her to get a better purchase on the bewildered creature. Mabel then learnt a fundamental lesson:

Mini-horses can kick too. 

Mabel had launched herself, and landed face first behind the horse as it bolted away from her. By tugging the horse backwards, she had inadvertently alarmed the already confused pet, and brought her face into range. She knew that precautions existed to avoid a horse’s hind legs, but a mini-horse? That would be alright surely…

“CLUMP”

Understandably, the horse lashed out, bucking and driving its back legs towards Mabel's face, connecting once on the bridge of her nose, and again on her right cheek, stamping two “C” shaped marks the size of a quarter onto Mabel's face that quickly turned a violent red.

“OUCHIE! Dipper grab it! Grab it!” She squealed, turning her wounded face away to shelter it from further barrage, still clinging to the reins desperately. She would rather die than let that horse get away from her.

Dipper had watched all of this transpire a few meters away, but had been too slow to prevent the horse's warranted retaliation. He dropped his backpack and stepped smoothly forwards to take the reins from his sister, draping a spare t-shirt over the frightened animal in an attempt to calm it as he tucked his arms under it’s torso and lifted it up. Dipper’s concern for Mabel grew when he felt the animal's muscles rippling as it jerked in his arms - it might be small, but it was one hell of a horse. 

“MY NOSE! MY BEAUTIFUL NOSE!” Mabel got up from the dusty forest terrain clinging to her nose, cross-eyed as she attempted to make out what damage had been done to her face. 

“God Mabel are you alright? I didn't think you’d go for that approach so quickly.”

“You’re just slow bro! It smooshed my nose real good. Is it broken?” She tentatively pulled her hands away and looked at Dipper. He was surprised to see her fiercely grinning from ear to ear, her braces catching the rays of sunlight that streamed through the dense forest canopy amplifying the white glint of her teeth; in contrast however, her nose was slowly turning a dark purple, and her cheek a deep red visible over the flush of exertion. 

“Ummm… Maybe a little purple in places?”

“Oh good! I’m glad my nose isn’t bleeding. I wouldn’t want to get blood on my new sweater.”

“Mabel, it's not a good shade of purple…” Dipper said cautiously, “does it hurt?”

“Yeah maybe a bit. Let’s see this feisty little monkey then” she said, stepping forwards and taking the wiggling cloth bundle out of Dipper's arms.

“We should put some ice on that Mabel, you’ll look like Grunkle Stan otherwise at the rate that it’s swelling”

“Ah don’t worry bro-bro. My horsey friend here wasn’t going to escape Mabel that easily!”

Dipper sighed. He concluded that Mabel’s priorities lay elsewhere as he watched her swoon over the miniature horse in her arms whilst she tried to pry the riding equipment off it.

Mabel was infatuated with the horse in her hands: No question she would have a name, and the horse’s soon-to-be house plotted clearly in her mind, the construction of which would undoubtedly require buckets worth of construction grade glitter. The horse didn’t know it yet, but it was about to begin a very sparkly life, fit for a king. 

“It probably belongs to someone doesn’t it” Dipper said rhetorically, he knew that answer and he didn’t like it

“Oh yeah bro. Look at him he’s so handsome!! There’s no way he’s a wild horse. You think his riders are like mini-people?! Oh my gosh. Mini-handsome-elf-riders?”

“THEY ARE NOT HANDSOME!” 

Behind them came a staunch little yell, a proclamation of utter fury with an iota of petty jealousy. The Pines spun on their heels looking for the proclaimed Elf hater amidst their surroundings: nothing was amiss, except a tiny red apex crudely hidden behind some sticks. It was a gnome.

“We can see you dude…”

“NO YOU CAN’T! I DON’T EXIST!” And with that, the stout little man burst out of the bush with his spear hoisted above him, glared at the bewildered twins and darted off down a well trodden path that led deeper into the forest. 

Without a second thought Mabel darted after him, stalking carefully down the trail and out of view, clutching the undoubtedly confused horse in her arms. Dipper realised he had no choice but to follow; he knew they should be getting back soon, but Mabel’s judgement was too assertive for Dipper to challenge, the only option was for him to see this escapade through as quickly as he could. 

He didn’t mind though, it might be fun to document some more of the Gnomes’ chaotic habits, and maybe even settle some bad blood between the species, hopefully without the donation of a sacrificial princess. 

He picked his way through the forest keeping his eyes on the now glitter sodden trail until he caught up with Mabel laying on her front, peering through a tunnel in the bush ahead of her that began where the trodden dirt trail ended.

“Yo bro, You gotta see this!”

Dipper tried to peer through the bush, but for every branch and leaf that he pulled apart, more seemed to spring into view; It was almost impossibly dense. He dropped to his front next to his sister and stared through the knee high tunnel of green and brown onto a blinding kaleidoscope of colour and activity. 

Gnome Town.

“They’ve certainly had a… renovation” he remarked, taking a mental note of how each of their little houses were constructed, a tree born civilisation no longer. It seemed that they were now carefully situated on the mossy ground with tiny triangular doors at each of their entrances and a questionable quantity of jewel highlights dabbled about the architecture. Trees and dense shrubbery resembling a wall surrounded their little world of nirvana, holding back any prying eyes, and slowing any intruders. 

There appeared to be a large congregation of tiny pointed people in the streets, the polished backs of their red hats facing the bush Mabel and Dipper were crouched behind. The center of attention looked to be a miniature throne, atop which sat a girl with platinum blonde hair, just as blindingly bright at the jewels that surrounded her.

“No way.” Dipper gawked. 

“It can’t be.” Mabel echoed. 

“Pacifica Northwest.” He finished, stunned. 

Neither of them could believe it. What was doing here? Why was she so tiny? Why was she on a throne? Dipper could take a guess at a few of those questions, more pressingly… Why was he sweating so much all of a sudden?

“I’m going to go and say hello” Mabel said, clearly over her shock as she fixed the mini-horse’s battered reins to a nearby tree and began to crawl through the bushy tunnel, commando style. 

“Mabel you remember the last time we met these guys right? The kidnapping and everything?” Dipper warned, squeezing himself through the hole after her. He probably should have taken off his backpack, this was going to be tight.

“Yeah we’re all friends now. And I’m sure Pacifica will be glad to see us!” she reassured as she crossed into Gnome jurisdiction, emerging a few meters behind the crowd of gnomes, moving to the side to allow Dipper a significantly less graceful entrance. 

They rose and brushed the dust and dirt from their clothes. 

“INTRUDERS!” A gnome shrieked, noticing the two foregin giants. “PROTECT THE QUEEN!” yelled another. A sea of red hats surged towards them, with their tiny spears pointed at their throats in a declaration of death, forcing the twins to back up as their legs were engulfed in the swarm of angry Gnomes. Dipper toppled backwards, falling heavily on his back and crushing one of delicately constructed dwellings with his head. Mabel wasn’t going to be the only one with a mark or two. 

He turned his head to look at Mabel as she too succumbed to the Gnomes. It felt like Pins and Needles, just… sharper? He guessed that the Gnomes were busy pricking him with their bayonets, thankfully failing to pierce his skin. 

“Wait.” came a voice a few meters away, quiet in stature, but fierce in effect. “Let them go.”

Slowly the pressure on his body ebbed away and Dipper could sit up again, albeit groggily from the bashing his head took - the houses weren’t made of Gingerbread like he’d hoped. 

Dipper and Mabel looked to the blonde seated on the throne up ahead of them,

“What the heck Pacifica?” Mabel started.

“What was that for?” Dipper finished. 

“I should have just let them tie you up huh.” Pacifica remarked as she seemed to contemplate having them bound and gagged, and promptly fed to some native monster. 

“No no no. Let’s not do that again.” Dipper interjected, rubbing his head and feeling quite the bump develop. “Why don’t we start again? Hi Pacifica, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

“Hi Dipper. Hi Mabel, love the sweater. I’m the queen of the Gnomes now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon:
> 
> Pacifica's Plight...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	4. Pacifica's Plight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northwests don't ask for help, but is she really a Northwest anymore...
> 
> Hope you are all happy! Enjoy reading!

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!” came a yell from the sea of pointy hats that surrounded them, followed by a seething ruckus of cheers from his peers - they might be slightly deranged, but they were certainly devoted if this and their other experience that summer were enough to go by. 

“Did we ever tell you about the time they tried to kidnap Mabel?!” Dipper said warily.

“BOOOO!”

“WITCH!”

Pacfica waved her hands in an attempt to quell their agitation. “I know her fashion sense isn’t great Carson,” she said, addressing an embittered gnome. “but you have to come to expect that from the outsiders. They don’t have my impeccable fashion sense.” 

“Hey! You said you liked my sweater!”

“I was trying to be nice Mabel.” she retorted matter-of-factly as she pinched the bridge of her lightly freckled nose in frustration.

Dipper had noticed it earlier: Even through the apocalypse Pacifica had been adamant that Mabel's cotton creations were crimes-against-fashion. To adorn her first words of their sudden encounter with a compliment? That was impressive for her. But praising Mabel’s sweater? She must be ill. 

“Are you alright Pacifica? What the heck are you doing here? “

“Slow down dork. One question at a time. Yes I am alright. My people here treat me like the queen I am, and in return I grace them with my presence and bestow my knowledge of looking pretty upon them.” She leaned back into her golden throne.

Dipper thought the throne would be worth a fortune despite it’s small form-factor, and the queen that sat atop it looked like she was born to rule. She probably had been. 

“As for what I’m doing here, I wanted to ride my…  _ only  _ pony for a while in the woods. I got somewhat lost, and eventually came across those pretty crystals in the rocks. I thought one would look fantastic in a necklace, but it had some… consequences.” she finished.

“Wait Humphrey’s your horse?” Mabel moaned

Pacifica nodded atop her throne as she processed this news, overlooking Humpy’s new name, she seemed relieved. “Wait. You found him?”

Mabel proudly informed her of the daring capture, exaggerating from time to time. The marks left on her bruised face told Pacifica most of what she needed to know.

“Thank god. My parents would kill me if I lost that one. Not that it matters anymore.” It wasn’t cold, and the little biome that the gnomes lived in was devoid of wind, but Pacifica shuddered nonetheless in her purple drapes.

Dipper had seen lapses in her facade once or twice before, understandably amidst very stressful situations. This wasn’t perhaps quite as extreme a warp in personality as he’d seen at the mansion, but regardless she seemed… different. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was worried about Pacifica Northwest. 

“You are going to go home right?” Dipper realised as he said it that he really didn’t know where she lived any more, not after the whole Weird-market crash at least. 

“I don’t see a need to. I have everything I need here.”

“But Paz, don’t you miss your butlers?” Mabel asked. The ranks of encircled gnomes retreated as she stood up, brushing the twigs and dirt of the tails of her sweater. “And look at you, you’re so tiny!” she teased, “don’t your little legs get tired?”

“Queen Pacifica does not leave gnome jurisdiction!” came a cry from what looked like the beef-eaters of the royal gnome guard.

“I’m sorry to tell you Mabel, but we only have 2 butlers now. I can’t go back to that. The height is a bit annoying, but at least you stand a chance at mini-golf now.”

The twins couldn’t deny it, Pacifica’s confidence was daunting regardless of her height. Dipper also noted that her hair was still radiant, and her eyes still a deep blue that perfectly complemented the pallet of her new adornments. He concluded that with Pacifica as a case study, the crystals seemed to maintain proportion and didn’t have any adverse effects on beauty nor intelligence. All this was considered strictly with science in mind of course. 

“Ouch. That was a low blow Paz, even for someone so tiny!” Mabel retorted, giving her brother painfully flashbacks of the time she and Stan relentlessly mocked him for the microscopic disparage in height. It felt good to be back on top, pun intended.

“I don’t want to ask...” Dipper probed, “but do gnomes have toilets?” 

“My bro asking the important questions!” Mabel jeered from beside him, punching him probably harder than necessary on the shoulder.

“We’re gnomes, not animals you beast!” Came a yell from the back.

They weren’t getting anywhere with this. Pacifica seemed relatively content with where she sat, and the twins could see why: the gold, the gems, the throne, the army - she was comfortable atop her perch, dictating to her subjects, and dispensing fashion advice like it was breaking news; she was raised to be exactly where she was now, albeit with another 3 feet of body. 

Mabel began to slowly back away from the tiny audience towards the gap in the hedge. “We’ll be healing off then Paz-Paz. I left Waddles at the shack with Grunkle Stan, soo…”

She elbowed Dipper’s side and nodded her towards the tunnel that led back to their belongings. “We have to get out of here before she asks for Humphrey back” She whispered hurriedly, probably too loudly for it to be a private judging by Pacifica’s massive eye roll - Mabel’s never been great at subtlety. 

Dipper figured it was best to cut their losses, and make their way back to the shack before Waddles got cooked for seconds, possibly with a horde of gnomes chasing after them when they discovered Mabel’s contraband.

“Aww I’m sorry you have to go so soon. It was nice to see you earlier than next summer at least. Let me show you the normal sized door.” 

It was an act of perfectly rehearsed courtesy, no doubt cultured at the countless parties staged at the Northwest’s venue where she greeted the guests of high society with champagne and all number of pleasantries. 

She stepped off her tiny throne, and stepped quickly through the sea of red as it parted in front of her like she was a tiny Moses. Her height demanded that she walk hurriedly so as to not keep their guests waiting, and yet she maintained that cold air of authority - she didn’t have to do this, she was doing them a favour. 

Dipper and Mabel soon discovered that the home of the gnomes had expanded significantly since their last visit and it was some distance between one solid hedge and another boundary wall on the other side of the facility. A majority of the gnomes remained behind at what seemed now to be the Trafalgar Square of Gnomeville, save the select few who ghosted their queen with an eerie sense of determination as they trod towards the doors.

“Huh.” Mabel said, “maybe being queen of the gnomes wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. You do seem to have a lot of friends here, and look at all of the tiny houses! And I could definitely go for a throne like yours Paz”

“It’s Pacifica Mabel. And I’m afraid you missed your chance. Jeff told me all about your little… interaction, last summer.”

“Awww shucks.” Mabel deflated like a balloon, her nickname shot down along with any prospect of becoming queen, although Dipper couldn’t see why she’d want to; the pointy little hats and the litter of gems just seemed to mask a life of confinement and solitude. “Give me a shout if you need a beautiful princess Paz!” 

“Don’t worry Mabel. I’ll let you know if the job ever opens up.”

Soon then arrived at the end of the “road” - another hedge. Pacifica reached her small hands into the shrubbery and suddenly the hedge shrunk apart, creating a small doorway amongst the impenetrable greenery.

Pacifica strode through, flipping her hand dismissively at her shadows without turning around. She intended to see them off alone, without witnesses. 

Dipper and Mabel followed through, taking a final glance at the little haven of colour and controlled chaos that they had stumbled across amidst the craziness of the forest; Dipper took a snapshot of the village for later recollection as this experience would undoubtedly need to be recorded in one of the journals. Mabel on the other hand, contemplated returning one day to rule the civilization, willingly this time. 

Outside the boundary, Mabel took the lead and began skirting round the border to find Humphry the horse decidedly calmer than before, having gotten over being pounced on by a sparkly predator. Pacifica lagged behind as she struggled to navigate the treacherous terrain, every bramble a snare and every stick a tree to stumble over.

“Curse looking good.” she sneered as she struggled to untangle her purple dress from a thorn. “Don’t you know it’s polite to wait for a girl?”

Dipper was amused, and he wasn’t going to hide it. “Oh I’m so sorry your highness. Do you want a ride on my shoulder?” His voice was laden with comical mockery as he stooped to bow and brush aside some more thorns. Pacifica briskly strode past, regaining her stature and royal prowess. 

They turned a corner and found Mabel with her back awkwardly turned to them, obviously hiding something behind her that yielded a muffled neigh from time to time. Pacfica chose to indulge her:

“Well you two, it was very nice seeing you both. You must come back and visit, we’ll soon have a spa and beauty parlor - you both seem to need an appointment.” She nodded towards Mabel's bruised face and muddy apparel, followed by a quick glance to Dipper’s rifled auburn hair. 

“That’d be great Paz! We can have a gnome sleepover and we can dress up and get crowns and-” She stopped herself, realising her contraband was at stake. “I would hug you, but I… I hurt my arm just now lifting Dipper’s backpack, so I can’t.”

“But you just- nevermind. Enjoy the horse Mabel.” Pacifica conceded with a sigh.

And with that Mabel was away into the forest, thankfully in Dipper judged to be the right direction. “Thanks Paz!!.....”

“Dipper. Dipper! You have to get me out of here.” Pacifica suddenly hissed quietly, looking behind her to the wall of green with worry. 

“What? I thought you liked it here?”

“I lied dummy! Curse my Lying Proficiency classes, you couldn’t even tell I hated it here?”

“No of course not! You seemed right at home bossing people about on the throne.”

“No! God they don’t even have conditioner! I haven’t got anything to live for here!”

There wasn't any point in arguing, they could have this discussion later when Mabel hadn’t just run off into the forest with a horse without knowing where she was going. 

“What the heck am I meant to do!? Carry you?” Dipper protested loudly. He didn’t normally do anything for anyone who spoke like that without good reason.

“Shut up. They’ll hear you through the hedge!” Pacifica punched him in the shin and Dipper found that regardless of the size of the assailant, a punch to the shin didn’t exactly tickle.

“Fine. I’m going to go and eat a hot dog. I’ll see you later in Pacifica.” Dipper picked up his backpack, pulled out a compass from the back pocket and slung it over his shoulder as he turned away and made for the shack.

“Dipper... Look, I’m sorry. Please. I need your help.”

Dipper stopped when he realised she wasn’t just being petty and spoilt. It wasn’t like her to beg, and he hadn’t heard that tone in her voice since the party at the Northwest Mansion. He sighed. She really did need his help.

“Ok Pacifica. How do you intend to run away from this place without them hunting you down like they did to Mabel? We can’t even stay ahead of them for long if they come looking!” 

“I don’t know! But you are  **not** carrying me.”

Dipper pulled his backpack off his shoulders. Thankfully it wasn’t as full as it would be as most of his adventuring gear was still spilled out in the car, and it was made for an impressive load much larger than Pacifica’s dainty 3”, so he should be able to fit her in there somehow. The real struggle however, would be getting her to get in it. 

“Pacifica I’m not going to like this any more than you are, but the only way to get back to your place before dark, whilst maybe running from gnomes, is with you in my backpack.”

“No way.” she said firmly, crossing her arms and turning her nose up and away from the distasteful bag Dipper had placed on the ground in front of her. “It’s not even designer.”

“Pacifica come on. Unless you get on my shoulder like a parrot, this is going the only way this is going to work.”

“Uh fine. But it better not be filthy otherwise I’m going to have to sue you for assault.”

She stepped forwards and peered into the bag, examining it carefully as though it were glowing green and oozing mucus, before reluctantly stepping inside with unstifled noises of disgust. Dipper suffocated a giggle, apparently not well enough. 

Pacifica peered over the top of the bag and glared at him: “Something funny dork?”

“Nope. Nothing” he chuckled. She looked like she was about to participate in a strange malformed sack race, and also burn holes through his head with her steely glare. He hurriedly picked up his backup, intentionally failing to take any additional care for the sake of the passenger. This wasn’t going to happen every day and he was certainly going to make the most of it. 

“Gently you idiot!” She squealed as she clung to the sides of the open bag desperately. As she regained some footing she flicked the nape of Dipper’s neck. “Mush dork. Before those stupid pointy gnomes come looking for me.”

With that they disappeared after Mabel, Dipper unsteadily clambering through the undergrowth between the hulking sentinels of wood and pine needles, checking his compass periodically and hoping that Mabel knew where she was going. Pacifica continued to curse under her breath, disgruntled and uncomfortable, but relieved nonetheless that someone had some to get her away from the barren land of split ends and frizzy un-conditioned hair. 

Pacifica had had to muster an unholy amount of courage to ask him for help - Northwests didn’t beg. She didn’t expect him to agree, especially not after the ghost last summer and how she had treated him, but here he was being so selfless again and slogging her out of trouble. Why oh why did he have to be so nice to her? Her knight in an unfashionable blue vest…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> Pacifica finds her home away from home...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	5. The Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Northwests are great at everything, right? Everything except talking...
> 
> It's a long one - I'm sorry for all the dialect but I have to set some stuff up early. Regardless, stay safe, and enjoy the read!

Mabel took particular pleasure in seeing the glare of Pacifica’s blonde hair flaring out from the top of Dipper’s rucksack, and she was definitely not afraid to show it. The journey wasn’t long, but by the time the forest had begun to thin, Dipper and Pacifica were red in the face from Mabel’s relentless teasing. 

“She’s like a tiny Pocket-Pacifica! I bet you’re planning to sneak her back to your room for some _privacy_ huh bro?!” 

Pacifica for once was deathly quiet, and Dipper similarly so - no matter what they did Mabel would _not_ shut up. Throw a quip back at his sister? It was returned at twice the velocity. Ask her to be quiet? When was she ever quiet! Mabel was going to make them suffer.

“OOooo, you introducing your new girlfriend to Mom and Dad already bro? When’s the wedding?”

“Would you shut up!” Pacifica pleaded from behind Dipper, but again to no avail. 

“Wait. Hang on. She’s got a point: What are we going to do about Mom and Dad?” Dipper stalled mid-step to try and envision what they had missed back at the shack, and what they were about to experience. He assumed that Stan had explained (conned) his way through the whole “I’m not the real Ford - here’s the real one!” situation, but how were they meant to explain Mabel’s swollen nose, tiny horse, and the “Pocket-Pacifica”, as Mabel so kindly put it?

“Eh. I’ll wing it,” she replied nonchalantly, clearly not as conscious of the potential repercussions. “I’ve always been a _great_ improviser. Did you even watch my puppet show?”

“There’s no way you can improvise your way through Pacifica losing half of her body Mabel!” Dipper, now reanimated, pressed onwards through what remained of the pine trees towards the shack - he couldn’t just leave Pacifica and her horse here and pretend that afternoon never happened. Although…

“You are going to fix that right?” It wasn't a question so much as it was a demand. 

“Well, umm about that Pacifica…” He was hoping this conversation wouldn’t happen.

“We can’t umm… get you back to your house fully grown, and get back in time for the hotdogs.”

“WHAT!? What do you intend to have me do in the meantime?! Go back to the gnomes?! Live in your shed?! Screw your hotdogs, take me home!” She screamed from his backpack. 

Pacifica’s proximity to Dipper's ears, although covered by Wendy’s hat, made him wince. 

“Dip won’t mind sharing a bed will you?” Mabel teased from upfront. They had reached the drive of the Mystery Shack; the smell of sausages and burgers was intoxicating. 

“You won’t have to live outside I promise. I can probably even sneak you half a hotdog with some mustard and stuff if that will help.” He would have to tackle each bridge as he came to it, even if each bridge was held up by a matchstick, and composed entirely of spaghetti. 

“What on earth is a 'hot- _dog_ ' _?_ Oh my god. Do you people eat dogs?"

Dipper and Mabel didn’t really have much time to look shocked before the Shack’s front door burst open, and behind it stood an ecstatic Stanford Pines. 

Mabel reacted predictably and smothered Ford with affection and a hug that could kill a bear, much to the dismay of her new steed that got crushed between the two. Dipper and he shared a fond handshake instead. 

“It’s good to see you back Dipper. I have to talk to you about something tomorrow if you have the chance, although I see you might have other pressing matters to deal with first.” Ford said plainly, nodding towards the stowaway.

“Dipper’s got a girlfriend!” Came a singsong holler from inside the shack.

“An encounter with the crystals I assume?” He continued.

Pacifica nodded from behind Dipper, suddenly shy about her embarrassing predicament. 

He faced Dipper again. “I’ve met with your parents, but they are understandably still baffled by the “Stanley faked his death” incident. They know nothing of last summer, however, so let’s try to steer them away from that.”

Dipper was pretty glad he wouldn’t have to explain one puzzle to his Mom and Dad, but he was just as merry about seeing Ford again. His Gruncle’s were like a pair of second parents to him - he didn’t know who he’d be without them.

“Sounds good to me Gruncle Ford! Any food left?”

“Barely,” Ford said grimly. “Seeing Stanely devour a bun is a sight I can’t say I ever missed in the multiverse.”

Ford returned to the backyard where Mabel’s voice could be heard chattering away, and the odd “pardon?” from his parents. Dipper hoped to God that she had an explanation for the tiny horse as he started up the stairs towards the twins’ room. 

“Dipper. This is not the way back to my house. I thought you were good with directions and stuff.” 

Dipper reached behind him and pushed Pacifica down into his bag and flipped the canvas lid over the opening, buckling down the outside. He refused to be caught sneaking her back to his room. Just… no. 

“I’m gonna put you in our room Pacifica, and then I’m gonna go get us some hotdogs. But in the meantime, be quiet please.” 

Suffice to say Pacifica wasn’t happy when he finally pushed through his door into the attic, and plopped the backpack down onto the floor and uncovered her. The journey back to the Shack hadn’t done her normally straight and heavy hair any favors, nor her purple eyeliner, which was currently smeared over the length of her right cheek. 

Her steely blue eyes were filled with fury, and her hands were clenched in a fit of untamable anger as she clawed herself out of the bag and trod heavily towards Dipper who backed up despite the stature of his fashion-conscious assailant.

“I swear to God Pines I’m going to sue you so badly you won’t be able to walk anymore.” 

Suffice to say Dipper’s shins were taking a beating that Saturday and the bruising wouldn't go down for some time. He was also fairly sure that any animals that inhabited the closer forest just had their eardrums burst by his supersonic scream. 

“That was uncalled for!” He groaned as he hopped about the attic towards the door, clinging to his bruised shin. “Just stay here whilst I go and explain some things and get some food.”

“Wait what?! Dipper come back here right now! I am not staying in your stinky room! Dipper! DIPPER!!” 

He had already scampered off down the hallway and carried himself down the stairs, leaving the attic door closed behind him and Pacifica stuck within its confines - it turns out that try as she might, she couldn’t reach the doorknob. 

He emerged into the backyard to find his family congregated around a very lopsided wooden table, save for his Gruncle Stan who appeared to be slaving away over the hot grill with a face laden with soot and a lust for more pork as he tried desperately to keep the stockpile of meat afloat. The goat loomed eerily in the background, it’s frayed and chewed tether dragging along behind it. 

Dipper was met with faces of concern and amusement. Mabel not-so-subtly winked at him from behind a burger, whilst his parents stared at him with bewilderment: he was limping slightly, covered head to toe in dirt from his time spent wallowing on the floor, and apparently had blood soaking through the back of his hat, which he promptly attributed to an encounter with a thick branch poised at head height. The destruction of that Gnomish house must have been even more brutal than he thought. 

The pony trotted around beside the table as it feasted with Waddles on the crumbs and scraps of the table, attracting the confused stare of Harvey who kept looking back and forth between it and Ford like they were both unicorns (Oh how naive a thought. Those jerks weren’t anything special).

Over his first hotdog, he had it explained to him that “Ford” as they knew of him before, was actually Stan, who had in fact not suffered an unfortunate demise like Harvey had suspected. The real Ford had instead spent his time “preoccupied with work too dangerous to explain” - hence the identity trade, and his absence from public and family life. 

Dipper and Mabel knew all of this of course and played along over their first serving of food as their parents stumbled through the mess, with the odd correction from Ford as he dissected his chicken wing with unrivaled passion. By Dipper’s second sausage, the conversation had shifted to concern the miniature pony, Mabel’s swollen nose, and Harvey’s father himself. The topics proved to be distraction enough that Dipper could slip away with half a hotdog under the pretense that he needed to go and rid himself of the blood and dirt.

Mabel tried to escape with Dipper, but Ford grabbed the back of her jumper before she could get into the house.

“Mabel I think you should stay.” He attempted an awkward wink, “Your parents look like they need a story that doesn’t include government science experiments for once. Perhaps you can oblige.” 

Mabel returned to her chair and accepted that she would have to take one for the team and do her best to distract their parents as best as she could. Teasing Pacifica and Dipper would have to wait.

Dipper limped back up to his room and was pleasantly surprised to find the door intact and still on its hinges - how it had contained Pacifica, he had no idea. 

He quietly turned the knob and entered the room carefully, expecting to be beaten half to death with a pillow as he did so. What Dipper did not expect, however, was to find Pacifica curled up on his bed - it looked like something from Sleeping Beauty. Her back was to the center of the room and she had both hands folded up to her chest in a tight self-embrace that oscillated gently with her deep breathing. 

He must remind his Mom to book him an appointment with the doctor - this sweating was getting out of hand. The napkin-wrapped hotdog was threatening to slip out of his hand at any moment. 

What the heck was he meant to do? If left her sleeping and returned to the BBQ, Mabel would find her asleep on his sheets and he'd never hear the end of that... But on the other hand, if he woke her he risked his very life. Eh, either way, he was screwed. He might as well go out on his own terms. 

Still with a portion of a hotdog in his left hand, he gently poked Pacifica's arm as though he was prodding a Manotaur. Thankfully Pacifica didn't yell and tear him limb from limb, but simply groaned and rolled onto her back as she opened her eyes. She was pretty clearly confused as to where she was, and he couldn't blame her - it was like waking up in an art gallery dedicated to rainbows, only the curator had an obsession with glitter than threatened the local eco-system.

"Where the- Dipper? What are you doing here?" She sat up and tried to regain her composure whilst taming the swathe of now tangled blonde bed hair.

"I might ask you the same question."

"Oh no. Did I fall asleep? I was only just trying to get off your crummy floor I swear! What's that?" Pacifica pointed towards the napkin in his left hand.

"Well umm... since I figured you hadn't eaten in a while, I got you a hotdog. Just ignore the charred bits - Stan hasn't gotten to grips with real sausages yet." He offered it to her on a sweaty outstretched hand. 

She glared at it for a second, evidently temped before she dragged her gaze of it and declined.

"Pacifica when was the last time you ate something?" Dipper wasn't going to let her go hungry, even if she had to eat something that lacked a Michelin star or two. 

"I don't know. The day before yesterday? I really shouldn't. How many calories are there in it? And where are your knives and forks?"

Dipper sighed and put it down on his bed next to her before digging his journal out of his rucksack and jumping onto Mabel's bed to take down what little he had learned of the gnomes' brief evolution. "I don't know Pacifica. It's there if you want it. I'm not trying to poison you or anything."

He dove into the tattered journal, and although he struggled to concentrate with a girl in such close proximity, it took him maybe 15 minutes to do a few sketches and immortalize a few notes. By the time he looked up the hotdog was nowhere to be found; the only evidence it ever existed was a tattered napkin littered with crumbs and a splattering of mustard around Pacifica's lips. She looked foolishly ashamed as she continued to toy with the knots in her hair. 

"Nice?" he posed.

She wasn't going to admit it, but that _thing_ was the nicest meal she'd had in years. The salads and the caviar were nice enough but lacked any sustenance or flavor, and she had refused to eat the bugs and insects the gnomes had served her. The hotdog was the perfect mix of flavor, juicy meat, and crunchy bread - it was food fit for the gods. Why the hell hadn't she ever been served that?

"It was... alright." 

"That's the first time Stan's food has ever been called anything but 'ick'." That bun was a big as her leg, how she ate all of that was beyond him. He went back to his journal. "You got some sauce on your lip by the way." 

Pacifica had just scoffed more food than ever before, and then been caught looking like a homeless person with condiments on her face. She wanted to say something and now seemed like the perfect time - couldn't get much lower than where she was right now. 

"Dipper... I should, like, probably say thank you for carrying me out of there. I don't think I could have survived there for much longer. Not with their beauty regiments."

Dipper was about to make some form of a joke about giving her back when the little tyrants came looking for her, but he realized that Pacifica's thanks should never be understated. 

He closed his journal and lay back into Mabels sequin splattered pillow. "Where do you live now anyway Pacifica?" 

"Just outside of town. My father's... _poor judgment_ was worst than we thought. So we had to sell all of our property to maintain at least some quality of life, even our Summer house in Ibiza." She wasn't proud of her parents' actions during Wierdmagedon and certainly wasn't about to go yelling about their financial hit from the rooftops. Dipper better not tell all of this to anyone, or he'll have a lawsuit on his hands. 

She continued: "Since land is so cheap here, you know, because of the monsters, Dad bought some land and had the lumberjacks build a house."

"So no mansion? Just a normal house?" 

"Shut up. I'm still richer. Just with two butlers instead of 20." She said sourly, crossing her arms. 

"Jeez ok, I'm just asking. Why don't you want to go back then?"

"What? Who said that?" she panicked. "I'd rather be there than at this dump any day."

"I'm not dumb Pacifica. Is there a ghost at this one too?"

"You're smarter than you look, dork. But no. No ghost, just my parents are- No. It doesn't matter. When can I go back?" She was getting weak. Rambling about family troubles? Her parents would murder her if anything got out.

"Pacifica look. You don't need to tell me anything, but maybe I could, you know, help? A thing that friends do sometimes?" He wasn't going to press, she didn't give in easy, but if her shudders in the forest were to be believed her home life wasn't exactly comfortable at the moment. 

Pacifica gave up toying with her hair - she was in dire need of a shower, not to mention a haircut as those split ends were getting out of hand. She pulled her legs up against her chest and let her chin rest between her knees. Dipper wanted to help, and she wanted to let him. Jeez, what was happening to her?

"Mum doesn't talk." She said quietly. "And when she does it's to fight with my Dad."

"Is that why you were so far away on your horse? I'm not surprised you got lost that deep in the forest."

"No. It's not that. He still has that... the bell. And he won't shut up. He just keeps ringing it and won't stop. It's constant." She shuddered again and cuddled her legs closer in a vain attempt to keep the cold memories that haunted her away. Truth be told she'd taken every chance that presented itself to get out of that house. It reminded her too much of the Northwest Mansion, even if it was a new build: The isolation, the false friends, the priceless artifacts that lined the barren corridors, and the ghost. That stupid ghost. 

"I was so close." She whispered almost to herself, eyes unfocused and silent. 

"What?" Her openness was taking him by surprise and certainly added to the already awkward atmosphere of the room. Deep chats weren't exactly Dipper's strong suite. 

"The door. I was so close to not pulling that lever. That bell... I almost listened to it. You said I was different, but you don't know how close I was to leaving everyone to die. You could be dead!"

Oh jeez. This was a deeper explanation than he had anticipated, and he was sorely unprepared for this. He had to say something, right? Could he just give her another hotdog and hope it fixed things? This was Mabel's forte, where was she when you needed her?

"Um..." The sweat was a torrent now. Mabel's bed would never recover. He pried himself up from the sheets and sat upright to face Pacifica as she rocked backward and forwards opposite him, eyes blank and damp, clearly deep in thought.

"Pacifica, I know it might not mean much coming from a "dork" like me, but if it's worth anything I do think you are different. When you hugged me-"

"I thought I paid you not to talk about that?" she huffed, glaring tiny daggers at him from his bed. 

"When you hugged me, that was Pacifica. The person who pulled that lever - that was Pacifica. The one who listened and hid in that bunker? That's someone else. You're not that other person - the one your parents want you to be - and umm... you don't have to be."

He smiled to himself as he felt that fond memory come flooding back to him. Outside the mansion it was cold and dark, the situation even more so. But their quick embrace was warm and comforting - the blazing fireplace in a cozy room; the friendly face amongst the crowd; the lighthouse standing strong amidst the storm. He could still smell the lingering scent of flowers she left on his hired suit... 

He saw her face brighten slightly, and he wallowed in the sight. She didn't often smile, at least not out of spite or arrogance. It seemed genuine. She seemed genuine, and he liked it. 

"Thanks, dummy. I just don't want to go back. I don't want to change back into that other person when the bell rings." 

"You won't Pacifica. And you won't have to go back. At least not for tonight - I think Mabel is planning a girly sleepover for you two tonight so there's no escape. For you or me."

"In that case, pass me my shoes Dipper. I'll walk back."

Dipper swore that at that point his twin could be summoned like some sort of demon if you said her name too many times; either that or she spent most of her time hanging about outside of doors waiting for the perfect opportunity to invade. Probably the latter. 

Mabel came crashing through the door, threatening to tear the antique of its hinges and send it flying to the dusty floor with a bang. Her jumpers often acted like some sort of flash-bang grenade - if you were too close, or looked for too long you were temporarily blinded by it and today was no exception. After dinner, she appeared to have donned a confident white sweater embellished with a bright four-leafed clover on its front, and in her hands, she clung to several pairs of knitting needles and a variety of cooly colored yarn balls. 

Pacifica and Dipper both instinctively whipped their heads to the door and saw Mabel's braces glinting back at them in a wide grin. Dipper began to shuffle with embarrassment whereas Pacifica tried desperately to reclaim any semblance of confidence or composure to reconstruct her unfaltering facade. 

"Don't you ever knock?!" Pacifica hissed with a scowl. 

"Dipper never normal has **_pretty girls_** in here!!" She taunted, wiggling her eyebrows so they resembled the gummy snakes Mabel stuck up her nose much too frequently. 

"Nothing was happening! Pacifica was just eating!" Dipper warbled as he stood up from Mabel's bed in an attempt to make things seem less suspect. Between his voice cracking, and his questionable body language it did nothing but stick him in a more uncomfortable position. 

"I didn't say anything was bro... Why? What were you two love birds up too? Don't make me put on my skepticals!" Her voice seemed to default to a teasing-singsong tone at this point. 

"I was just... um... talking to Dipper about my new house..." Pacifica tried, doing her best to sound convincing and steer Mabel away from the more emotional topics. 

"Shush girlfriend. We are gonna talk about all that gossip and _more..."_ Mabel winked at Pacifica and tilted her head towards Dipper who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. Then, she practically screamed:

"We're having a SLEEPOVER!!"

Dipper pounced on his sister and clamped his hand over her mouth. Mabel bursting in during their one-on-one was bad enough, but Mom or Dad? He wasn't going to let Mabel endanger them all that easily. 

She licked his hand and Dipper recoiled, as did Pacifica from over on Dipper's bed. 

"Jeez bro no need to get so stressy. Mom and Dad had a few drinks with Gruncle Stan," She mimicked chugging a bottle. "so they're going to bed now. Pacifica perform your finger stretches, because it's time to get knitting!"

Dipper could sometimes rescue a lucky few from his sister's unrelenting enthusiasm, but he couldn't save everyone. Plus, he figured it wouldn't do Pacifica any harm to spend some time doing what "normal" people do. 

He'd been a part of Mabel's knitting frenzies once or twice, and he swore he looked like one of those arm-wrestlers after she had finished with him. Never again.

He made eye contact with Pacifica as he edged his way to the door, her eyes a desperate plea for help. "I'm just going to go say goodnight to everyone and catch up with Ford."

"Dipper no! Stay!" Pacifica begged, but it was too late; Dipper waved from the doorway and dipped down the corridor towards the stairs leaving Pacifica alone with her antithesis. 

"Right. What color glitter do you fancy Paz Paz?"

Mabel wafted towards the other girl with a scary intensity, hands in front grasping the comparatively giant needles like a serial killer would his knives, the strings of wool were like wires that made Pacifica's throat tighten in painful anticipation. 

Mabel was a yarn ball butcher, and Pacifica wasn't going to come out of this without blisters, a pricked thumb, and a sweater... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> A new trend, and an old hat...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	6. Finding The New Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica gets big-headed (literally), and Dipper eats some pancakes...
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long; I got really into the description here so it's pretty long, but I'm quite proud of it. I hope it resonates with you as well.  
> Enjoy, and have an amazing day!

Dipper found his grunkle slouched in one of the tired leather armchairs of the living room, nose buried beneath the yellowed pages of a large book that looked as though it’s contents could contain the secrets of the universe. Ford looked up and closed his book when he heard Dipper plop down onto the couch across from him and placed his book neatly on the armrest beside him before he rested his hands in his lap.

“Quite the first day huh?” He started.

The day had been a pretty arduous one. Dipper was slurring and was admittedly very tempted to just slip into a peaceful slumber. “Just like any other day back here. Mabel’s got Pacifica held captive in our room, and it looks like she won’t be leaving till morning. I’ve missed the chaos, but I didn’t realize it was so tiring.”

“Oh, I take it that's the girl who encountered the crystals? I’ve got one of those pesky things somewhere, I can dig out for you in the morning. But until then, you can count your parents out of the equation - they are going to have quite the hangover.”

That silenced his worries for the most part, however, something had been pressing on his mind for some time, ever since they arrived in fact. 

“Grunkle Ford, what’s that new shed for?”

“Ah, I was waiting for you to ask about that. Well, after we discovered that neither Stan nor I were suited to life about the ocean, we took it upon ourselves to commit to some… upgrades.”

Dipper perked up. A new lab? New machines? New experiments? He was about to go and recover his rucksack to live in the new building’s confines before Ford continued:

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised Stan paid for it all, but conning seems to be worth a dime or two. We have a state of the art laboratory downstairs, with room to spare for expansion. Upstairs, however, is a residence for me and Stanley. Bunking with him is certainly a regret, however - no man should ever have to experience his odors.”

The two shuddered in unison as they re-lived their foul traumas that could only be described as unforgettably harrowing. Dipper pitied the man who had to eat with Stan, much less bunk. Regardless, he had no doubt he would spend a significant portion of his time here in that bunker, surrounded by gauges and polished steel and having the time of his life. His parents must be in Stan's old room, or maybe Ford’s? Jeez, that brain-trading carpet better be long gone. Things were bound to get interesting if something that volatile was left about to surprise some poor soul. 

“What are you working on? I’ve got some theories that might be worth looking into. Let me show you-” Dipper started to get up; He might not be able to think straight, but he wanted to start all of this right now. 

Ford smiled to himself. It was like looking into a mirror, and that scared him somewhat - his undying enthusiasm for knowledge had proved to be dangerous, and oftentimes completely illogical considering the risks involved. Hopefully, Dipper will be more careful than he had ever been. 

“I don’t doubt it Dipper. I’m still in the process of furnishing the banks of machines currently and I need to venture to the crash site to retrieve more material. Until then, little is possible. I take it you would be interested in going to the crash site again?”

Dipper finished prying himself off the tacky pleather and sat up to attention. “What do you need?”

“First things first, you need to rest. Give me a few days to assemble a list of a few parts, and I’ll let you know when I need an adventurer. Don’t neglect your parents or that girl, however.”

Ford wiped his glasses, carefully inspecting each lens in turn for discrepancies, before delving back into the vast volume he was reading prior. 

Dipper turned his attention to the chaotic broadcasts of Gravity Falls terrestrial for a while before he clambered unsteadily to his feet and downed a glass of well-needed water from the kitchen. He passed through the living room again on the way back up to his room, and in an unprecedented act of unconventional affection, Ford clasped his shoulder as he passed by the armchair and murmured something from behind his book. 

“It’s good to have you back Dipper. Gravity Falls won’t have many more secrets for long.”

Dipper slowly pried the bedroom door open to find the room surprisingly quiet and un-glittered. He figured either Pacifica would have murdered Mabel with a knitting needle for using too much blue, or Mabel would have tied the blonde up with yarn to stop her from escaping. 

Pacifica was instead curled up amidst a pile of Mabel’s colorful blankets on the floorboards of the attic, her hair tied up into a ponytail, billowing out the back of her head like a peacock's tail. Next to her slumbering form, Dipper discovered a small sweater composed of a deep blue yarn with a rich purple inlay of a llama neatly poised on the front. He sat on his bed for a while, admiring the sweater. Just the sweater. He wasn’t staring at Pacifica or anything. Nope. Not at all. 

“You can stop staring now, dork. I look like a hobo. You don’t need to remind me.” 

Dipper fumbled with his bedding and desperately flung himself into it whilst trying his best not to wake his sister who lay dormant across the room. “What? I wasn’t staring. I’m just umm… going to bed.”

They lay in silence for a while with Dipper still fully clothed, hidden under his sheets, and Pacifica breathing quietly from beside Mabel's bed. He thought about the heart-to-heart they’d had earlier before Mabel interrupted, and tried to come up with something comforting to say - she was in a foreign house, barely 3 foot tall, and didn’t have a nice home to go home to; It couldn’t be easy. 

Dipper rolled over to look into the dark at the mound of fabric and hair. “Hey, Pacifica…” He whispered.

“God... What Dipper? Some people are trying to get their beauty sleep here. I’ll get wrinkles!” Came a hiss from the floor. 

He was going out on a limb here: “I like your sweater, and umm… I don’t think you look like a homeless person at all.” Not the smoothest nor the most elaborate of compliments but it was the best his drowsy brain could think of to say - 

“Even with my hair like this? It’s a bird's nest.” 

Shut up Dipper. Don’t say something you will regret in the morning. What if Mabel’s still awake?

“I actually like your hair like that. The ponytail I mean. I think you look really umm… cute.” 

Pacifica’s previously sedentary breathing rammed into high gear, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She felt like a hobo, inside and out - she didn’t yearn for anyone to gaze upon her scruffy clothes or twisted hair, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to go home quite yet. Her parents would think she was a beggar if she turned up looking like she did. 

Pacifica didn’t know why, but her eyes started to water. Thank god it was dark. 

Somewhere in the grim black of the attic Dipper thought he caught the glint of her eyes in the void somehow. The meters that separated them suddenly shrunk away and the barely audible whisper that returned from the pitch-black sounded loud in Dipper’s ears.

“Thank you, Dipper.” It wasn’t snarky or aloof; it seemed genuine, and that made Dipper’s heart flutter beneath his t-shirt. 

“Now go to bed dork.” 

So he did, and he slept like a log.

He dreamt briefly of the chaos and the pain of last summer. His visions were laden with the stone statues - people frozen in an enteral bellow of terror and shock, decaying slowly as the world deteriorated around them and a blazing hell rose from beneath. 

As that sorry world melted away, he also dreamt of the contrary: a warm existence, filled with discovery and exploration and glitter; not stone monoliths and talking triangles, but filled with family and friends. Pacifica was there too, somewhere and somewhen. Her arms were open in a summons to embrace and she had a huge smile plastered over her pale, lightly freckled face as her eyes shone a boundless ocean of shimmering blue; those eyes made Dipper’s blood pressure soar and his face tarnish a rose-red in his sleep. The ambiance was tinted slightly with the smell of flowers as his dreams dissolved and Dipper finally welcomed a deeper sleep with gratitude. 

Now, normal people had alarm clocks to wake them up for work or school. Dipper had something that could both be considered better, and a whole lot worse… his sister. She would often wake at the crack of dawn, and for reasons that would go forever unknown, proceed to shake the whole house down with her ruckus and morning shambles. 

Dipper was subject to the more personal treatment of being shaken awake most mornings by Mabel, and unfortunately, she didn’t have a snooze button like most conventional methods of arousal. Sunday morning was no different, and Dipper was dragged away from his slumber by a rude poking that would be considered brutal by most traditional standards. She timed each painful prod with a “Wake up.”, and continued to do so until Dipper extricated himself from the crusty sheets, and sat himself on the edge of the aged mattress, still fully clothed. God, he needed a shower. 

Satisfied, Mabel set her sights on the bundle of blankets clumped on the floor next to her bed. Pacifica was still somehow dormant. 

Next, the blonde received much the same punishment as Dipper had, however, her perspective was all the more warped of an experience due to the change in height. She still hadn’t acclimated to her new stature, and at first thought she was about to be eaten by a giant with very well maintained and shiny teeth, dressed in a crude sparkling sweater; Nope, just Mabel. Pacifica was relieved to see such a warm and friendly face but was soon overcome by dismay as yesterday’s memories came flooding back to her. Looking like she had just touched an electrical pylon? Check. Plastered with grime and smudged makeup? Of course. This was embarrassing. 

Dipper figured he had best not subject the other inhabitants of Gravity Falls to his sweating problems and the odors that followed shortly after. A shower was definitely the best course of action, and he reveled in the warm embrace of the clear water as his auburn hair became sodden and his bruised shins were lulled. He returned to the attic to find Pacifica sat awkwardly on Mabel’s bed now fitted in the sweater Dipper had seen last night. She was trying her best to look photogenic for the dazzled phone held in front of her, but there was only so much she could do to tame her lion's mane of a ponytail. Dipper watched from the doorway with an expression of bemusement and pity before he went to find Ford and find the only thing that might help relieve some of her stress. 

He was still battling a lock of stubborn hair that refused to stay out of his eyes as he pushed his way into the Mystery Shed. It seemed bigger on the inside somehow, although that could probably be put down to the lack of furnishing: there was a large fridge stuffed into one corner right of the door, and several tables pushed against the logged walls stacked high with books and Stan’s dirtied tank tops. Two beds sat in the corners further from the door, one buckling under the weight of its unresponsive user and the other neatly made with white sheets and spotless pillows. He didn’t have to ask who the sleeping silhouette was if the hunched back and apparent lack of order was anything to go by. 

He was about to carefully back out of the half man-cave, half study-room when the floor began to shudder beneath his feet. The floorboards ahead of him began to retract into one another like a massive mosaic until a square hole, perhaps 2 or 3 meters in diameter revealed itself. The shuddering stopped, and Dipper approached to peer over the edge of the ebony flooring into the hole. Sturdy metal stairs led down into the dark, their edges illuminated shyly by a cool blue border of light as they stepped down into the dark. Stan, deep in his unbreakable curse of sleep, didn’t even stir. 

Dipper’s sense of curiosity again took over him, and he began down the stairs into the dark. Just when they seemed like they would go on forever, the descent culminated in a high metal threshold with doors that slid apart like those on an elevator. The room behind them hummed with an intense power and seemed blindingly bright compared to its dark entrance. 

The room was perhaps as big as the Shed above, if not bigger if you took into account the mezzanine that occupied about a third of the daunting ceiling space. The walls and roof were composed of a spotless metal, most of which was shrouded by banks of screens and gauges, each one oscillating to some unknown clock. The whole environment perpetuated a sense of utter chaos and personality. Each screen yielded a barrage of information sufficient to overwhelm the mind of any normal man. Thankfully the room’s dweller was certainly not your average joe. 

Ford was slumped over some crates in what appeared to be the designated storage area, humming passively to himself and tossing objects over his shoulder, pausing occasionally to inspect whatever he had dragged out of the packaging. 

“Dipper, welcome my boy. I saw you on the security cameras. What do you think?”

Dipper was overwhelmed by his surroundings and only nodded in response as he tried his best to determine where on earth the cameras were fitted above ground. 

Still hunched over the crate of mysterious artifacts, Ford gestured loosely over his shoulder towards a table to Dippers left. “I found my old crystal and I have fashioned a flashlight jig for it over there on the table. It should do the trick.”

Dipper dragged his eyes away from the cacophony of data that presented itself to him on the walls and eventually found what Ford must have meant. It looked similar to the Crystal-Flashlight he and Mabel had invented, but it was significantly more engineered, and looked like it could output a much beefier light should it be adjusted to do so. 

Dipper forced himself to back out of the room towards the stairs, Flashlight in hand and eyes still desperately trying to derive meaning from the endless array of dials and displays. After a short trek back up the steps, he watched the hole in the floor conceal itself once again. No one would ever know it was there. How on earth do you get in? 

Stan still hadn’t gotten up, and after one final inspection about the Mystery Shed he still couldn’t find the cameras Ford had mentioned earlier - guess that meant they were pretty secure. 

Dipper slunk back to the shack carefully, checking each doorway for his parents before slipping back up to the attic. He concluded they were thankfully still in bed recovering from last night’s drinking frenzy. 

Pacifica was currently buried beneath scrapbooks that were as large as she was, but she heaved them off her as soon as she saw Dipper come into the attic before vaulting off the bed. Mabel carefully closed and returned each photographic novel to its place on a shelf, before she helped the other two decipher the best way to return Paicifca to normal. 

“I don’t care Dipper. Make me tall again. I can’t stand having to be lifted onto beds.” She protested, standing back with her arms up like she was about to be shot.

“Pacifica you might end up with a massive nose or one leg shorter than the other if we don’t do this right.” 

“Dipper just do it. I can live with the consequences.” 

Couldn’t argue with Pacifica. He pointed the torch at the tiny girl and flipped a switch. For a brief second, nothing seemed to happen, but then Pacifica began to grow inch by inch until her eyes lay level with his. She was still wearing the jumper she and Mabel had constructed, and at full size, it’s impact on the room was all the more impressive, as were her glittering eyes and trailing platinum hair. Jeez, Pacifica was distracting, and Dipper was going to need another shower again at this rate if he didn’t stop sweating. 

Pacifica’s eyes shone with relief and she had to suppress a squeal as the room shrunk around her and things finally started to return to normal. Being the queen of the gnomes and 2 foot tall had its perks, but being able to use a chair, much less a toilet was a hassle she was glad to be rid of. More than anything about normal life though, she missed her bed. Four pillows are considered more than enough for most people, Northwests on the other hand demanded that four plush pillows were supplied at minimum. Without such a necessity, her sleep was bound to be shallow and fruitless, especially if it were on the dusty floorboards of the Pines’ attic.

Looking at Pacifica, Dipper checked off the objectives in his head: Return Pacifica to normal - check. Sneak her out and back to her place… with hindsight, they probably should have done this the other way around. 

It was approaching midday, and he was getting hungry and he had no doubt the girls were as well, although Mabel had probably consumed enough “Mabel-juice” to keep her going for a while. Time to get the show on the road. 

Pacifica collected her things, albeit just her shoes, and was ushered out the door by Dipper and Mabel who escorted her through the building, checking around each corner as they went. Dipper grabbed the keys to the golf cart, and borrowed some cash for the register; he knew Stan would notice, but he was sure Stan wouldn’t mind, right? He worked the whole of last summer without pay after all. 

Soon they were bombing along the roads of the town probably faster than they should have been, but nobody really paid much attention to the peculiar sight of a golf cart full of teens that couldn’t see much over the hood. It was Gravity Falls after all - they’d seen weirder. 

As they traveled through the suburbs Mabel poked Dipper in the arm and indicated broadly to pull over somewhere up ahead. The cart rolled to a lazy stop, and Mabel hopped out and proceeded to the rear of the cart where Pacifica was huddled on the backseat, hugging herself against the cold. She was only wearing her new sweater and the dress they’d found her in with the Gnomes. Her fingers looked practically the same shade of purple as the dress, and her nose was steadily reddening against the frigid air of high-speed golf carting. 

“Bye bestie! You’re planning the thanksgiving party with me right? What’s a party without it’s two gorgeous Queens!”

Dipper swiveled around and watched Pacifica clearly contemplate the decision in her head: On one hand, she could elevate the celebration from its dismal attempt at a party last year with some amazing food and decorations. But on the other hand, she would have to submit to Mabel as a partner and co-queen which might prove troublesome if she didn’t want the parties theme to be “rainbow unicorn barf”.

She was frankly too cold to care and chose the option that would get her somewhere warm quickest, and possibly barter some more time with Dipper in the future. The latter was less important. Obviously. 

“Uh… Fine.” She groaned through chattering teeth.

Mabel looked ecstatic, “I’ll text you the deets girlfriend! This is going to be the best. Party. Ever.” and she pounced on Pacifica to embrace her in one very wooly hug, a hug which Pacifica surprisingly didn’t reject. Mabel informed Dipper of her split-second decision to surprise Candy and Grenda before she pranced off down the street as if it were a sunny summer’s day, and not a dreary Sunday in November. 

That left two, and Dipper was quick to offer the front seat to Pacifica who still remained huddled in the back. She quickly unfolded herself and joined Dipper in the front, shuffling perhaps closer than necessary until their shoulders were pressed together. Dipper might lose his grip on the wheel because of the sweat, but he didn’t mind.

Time to grab some grub, and defrost Pacifica by the looks of things. 

“You cold Pacifica?” He asked as he started the cart and pulled out in the empty streets.

“What do you think, dork?” 

He grinned to himself. It was strange to think about, but he didn’t mind Pacifica’s feisty remarks too much now. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and he admired that about her. Enough reflection - time for pancakes and hot chocolate. 

They pulled up outside Greasy’s Diner and evacuated the vehicle that was more tape and glue than golf-cart. Dipper opened the door, the bell rang, and Pacifica entered the dirt stricken but atmospheric, little cafe apprehensively, hands defensively wrapped around her torso as if people were about to mug her. 

Pacifica dragged her finger across a table and admired the newfound tinge to her fingertip. “Are you sure this place is safe to eat in?” 

“It’ll be fine Pacifica. I’ll get us something - You like hot cocoa right?”

“I’m not a monster Dipper.”

Dipper peered over the counter and ordered them some pancakes to share, and two cups of hot cocoa - the perfect combination for chilly weather, and Pacifica couldn’t possibly turn her nose up at pancakes. 

Lazy Susan soon arrived with a bounty of delectables and slid them between the pair as they sat alone opposite each other in the booth. Dipper didn’t hesitate and sunk his knife and fork into the syrup sodden stack of pancakes and began to chow down for the first time that day. What a breakfast.

Given the public location, and her scruffy appearance, Pacifica was a little more hesitant in digging in. She had to uphold what little of a reputation the Northwests still had and her hair was already doing it a discourtesy; Pancakes and syrup over her face would only worsen the damage. 

Dipper saw her staring at the stack he was slowly consuming and could see the turmoil in her eyes. He picked up her fork and stabbed a chunk of dough, before handing it to her cold pale hands. With what looked again like shame in her eyes, she tentatively pushed the syrup covered mass into her mouth and chewed for a second. God these were good. A tiny bit more wouldn’t hurt, right? 

Pacifica grinned at Dipper, before taking another chunk, and another, and another. Before they knew it they were out the door again and into the frigid afternoon air, now, however, they were fueled by swollen stomachs laden with glucose and chocolate. However, even those catalysts weren’t enough to completely nullify the chilling wind that buffered the town relentlessly. Dipper pulled his (Wendy’s) hat down over his ears and looked over to see Pacifica retreating into her sweater again with a grimace, her hair blowing like a blonde windsock behind her. 

Dipper didn’t know what he was doing, but he pulled the lumberjack hat off his head, snuck up behind Pacifica and pulled it down over her head.

She spun around and glared at him as she pawed at the hat trying to work out how badly it complimented her already disgraceful outfit. “Dipper! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” 

He shrugged and grinned back at her as he clambered into the golf cart. “You looked cold.”

“Isn’t this the Corduroy girl’s hat? You should keep it!” She stepped up into the golf cart with him and tried handing it back and regretted it immediately - with her hair in a ponytail, she felt like her ears were going to freeze and drop off in the cold. Bad move. 

“She gave it to me last summer.” He said as he pulled it back over her ears, “You’ll freeze on the way back without it.” 

“Ughh. Fine. But make sure no one sees us. I’ll be a laughing stock.” 

He felt her sink into the seat and lean into his torso as she tried to garner some warmth from his body. There was no other reason to be this close together, right? He felt his body temperature rocket as his face flushed and hands slickened on the wheel again. Get a hold of yourself Dipper, he thought to himself, she’s just leaning against you. Doesn't’ mean she likes you? Right?

It turns out Pacifica was awful at giving directions, and they ended up missing her street once or twice as they navigated through the poorly signed roadways. Eventually, Dipper found the right turn and trundled down the road parallel to a very well maintained hedge that didn’t fit in with the ramshackle notion of the rest of the town. The green barrier split halfway down the road to facilitate a gravel driveway bared by thick metal gates that led up to a house triple the size of its distant neighbors, surrounded by small, fledgling shrubbery. The curtains were drawn, and the main doors were big enough for one of the manotaurs. The exterior struck an unusual resemblance to the old manor that Dipper found somehow unsettling. He didn’t need confirmation to know that this was a Northwest property. 

“They upgraded their defenses huh?” Dipper remarked, rapping the cold black bars of the gate with his knuckles and peering up the drive. 

“Don’t remind me. It’s like a prison. People can’t get in, and I can’t get out.”

Dipper tried his best to look casual as he buried his hands into his pockets and continued to stare at the high chimneys of Pacifica’s residence.

“Will you be able to umm… come out with me and Mabel sometimes though won’t you?” 

Pacifica shuddered again, dually because of the cold and what horrors lay ahead of her. No credit cards? No dresses? God forbid her parents try to take her phone or ring that stupid bell again. She’d just run away in that case.

“I’ll try my best, but Dad is probably going to lock me in my room for a week when I go back in there.” 

Dipper turned to make eye contact with her but tripped and fell headfirst into the expanses of ocean blue that stared back at him. Speak Dipper, stop staring. Talk like a normal person.

“Me and Mabel will still be here. Besides, Mabel will stage a rescue mission if you don’t turn up to help her plan the party.”

She liked his hair, the way it curled lazily at his fringe and rode like a wave back into the tousled mop of auburn locks. He looked better without a hat, she decided. That reminded her. She plucked the fluffy hat off her head and tried her best to ignore the mess it probably left behind. 

“Here.” She tried to hand it back to him but was again denied as he pushed the hat back towards her.

“Give it back to me next time you see me. It’ll keep you warm in the meantime.” 

Why did he have to be so nice all the time? What was his problem? She pulled the hat back over her ears and wallowed in its warmth again. 

Suddenly Pacifica stepped towards him and flung her arms quickly around his back. She hugged him tightly and leaned her chin on his left shoulder as she held him there, unable to escape even if he wanted to. He stiffened slightly at first, but slowly sunk into it. It was the warmth in an otherwise sun-sapping day - their little island of peace and serenity amidst the torrent of howling wind and knifing cold. He felt her hair tickling the back of his hands and didn’t want it to end. He hugged her tight to ensure that it didn’t.

“Thank you, Dipper.” Pacifica whispered.

Oooo, another appraisal? “What was that Pacifica? I couldn’t hear you.”

She squeezed him tighter. “Oh shut up, dork. Enjoy it.”

They broke their embrace and she turned to press a button on the solitary intercom. 

Her tone changed and her eyebrows set in a cold scowl. “Geoff, it’s Pacifica. Let me in.”

“Miss Northwest. Welcome back. I’ll notify your parents of your arrival.”

The gate clicked, and slowly swung open.

She turned back to Dipper but couldn’t meet his eyes: it was back to the mansion; back to high-society and the snobs that inhabited it; back to her crummy parents and the hell they created. 

“You’ll come and get me right?”

He’d have to get her number off Mabel. He didn’t know how but he’d break down the gates if she wanted him too. 

Dipper smiled in a sorry attempt to comfort her, “Just let me know and I’ll get Stan over here with his wire cutters and lock picking kit.”

Pacifica smirked and nodded, before she turned her back the only source of warmth in her life, apart from her new sweater of course - the thing might have a questionable style, but it certainly did the job and kept her somewhat warm. 

Dipper watched as the gates closed and latched shut behind her; Pacifica was a little dot of conspicuous color traveling towards an ominous house surrounded by a drab green. The bright flare in the world’s worst chain of greed and corruption - a blonde girl with staggering eyes and a ponytail, wearing a lumberjack hat and a llama sweater. It was an unusual spectacle perhaps, but it was a sight that Dipper liked. 

A sight that he loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> "We'll meet back here..." - Pacifica Northwest.
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.


	7. Bringing Sexy Back - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something lurks in plain sight...
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter; it's the first of hopefully loads of crazy adventures. Have an amazing day!

A few days had passed since Dipper and Mabel had recovered Pacifica from the depths of the forest and the clammy clutches of the gnomes, and nothing much had come to fruition since. The twins had spent some time acclimating their parents to the town, and to their surprise, they had become surprisingly accustomed to life in the lazy borough.

Their father, Harvey, seemed to enjoy a break from his desk-bound work and seemed to get on extremely well with Grunkle Stan, and the two shared their fair share of anecdotes as they weakened the town's supply of alcohol. 

As for Michelle, she spent most of her time questioning Ford about the anomalies that plagued the town and being dragged about by Mabel as she was introduced to Candy, Grenda, Wendy, and Seus. Neither she nor Harvey seemed to be adverse to the oddities, but they were certainly bewildered by it all - it was like being at a zoo that housed ridiculous genetic experiments.

The Thanksgiving party was coming up in a week or two and Mabel was certain that this was going to be the biggest bash  ** ever ** . She had tried to text Pacifica but had received nothing but silence. Worrying, but it could just be Pacifica being surly. She needed help with getting her hands on lights, disco balls (Yes, you read that right - plural.), a light-up dance floor, and a sweet DJ station for Seus. She was going to dance all night long, or at least until bedtime. Curfews were the bane of any good celebration. 

Dipper, on the other hand, was more worried by Pacifica’s silence than he would like to admit. He’d retrieved Pacifica’s number from Mabel after a lot of chasing and teasing and had texted her immediately. Like Mabel, he received nothing but a deafening muteness that could mean any number of atrocities had occurred. Dipper chose to believe that she had simply had her phone confiscated.

He was sitting on the couch trying to decipher a new TV show when he heard feet pounding heavily on the stairs. Mabel shot into the room:

“BRO! BRO! GET UP! We’re going to go dress shopping with Pacifica!!” She zoomed past towards the door, sweater sleeves flapping behind her. 

“Wait, she’s alright? Why do we need dresses?”

“The dresses are for the girls, dummy! Hurry up. You can kiss her when we get there. I’m driving!”

He heard the rattle of the keys and the door slam soon after. He hurriedly slipped on his shoes and vest, before scurrying after his sister who was revving the engine impatiently outside. 

Mabel's driving warranted some white-knuckled bravery and possibly some pitiful screams from Dipper, but they were soon outside that foreboding house again, tucked carefully behind a portion of the hedge. Mabel notified Pacifica that her malformed taxi had arrived, and soon the doors to the mansion opened to a dark interior where a little silhouette stood out against the monotonous background.

Pacifica strolled down the driveway towards the gate with royalty in her step, and authority in her stature. She was wearing a teal blouse that was tucked neatly into a navy blue skirt that finished just above her knees. She had Dipper’s lumberjack hat clamped between her chin and breastbone as she tied up her hair into a ponytail.

The gates swung open and she stepped out on the sidewalk to greet the twins. Mabel was again ecstatic as always, and smothered her in a hug; Dipper's brain spouted several temperature warnings as he short-circuited and his blood pressure shot through the roof. He felt his face flush red under the gaze of the blonde. Dipper babbled something unintelligible to Pacifica as he tried to meet her eyes. 

She smirked and pulled herself into the front of the golf cart.

“Good morning Dipper. I look stunning, I know. You should be used to it by now.” 

He barely had time to slide into the back before Mabel hit the gas and performed an impressive U-turn before darting into the town's meek center as if she were being chased by the police. In no time at all they had tucked the cart into an alleyway and Pacifica led the trio down the street. 

People stepped aside and groups separated to allow Pacifica and her entourage to walk the middle of the sidewalk unimpeded, throwing subtle glances of awe their way as they passed. Weirdmaggedon had evidently done very little damage to the reputation of the Northwests and they still seemed to retain most of their former notoriety in the town. 

The girls paused from time to time to gaze into shop windows but came to a complete stop in front of a sea of spotless glass and blinding lights. Compared to the featureless shops that inhabited its flanks, “Spencer's” radiated luxury and elegance through the dresses and suits that lined the windows. Each dress’ pressed fabric was adorned with sequins and lace of every manner, somehow both subtly beautiful and blindingly awestriking. Everything seemed so white and pure behind the shop’s handsome black door. Moreover, everything screamed, “I cost more than your whole house.”

A bell jingled sweetly, and Mabel skipped into the shop. Pacifica saw Dipper wincing at the harsh sparkle and herded him inside. As soon as the door closed softly behind they seemed cut off from the outside world - the closest comparison Dipper could draw was to the atmospherically-controlled, airtight laboratory of his uncle that was buried deep underground. The shop somehow obtained the same level of uncontaminated excellence and isolation through a few spotless glass panes.

Pacifica and Mabel each went to work, gliding through the racks of dresses and the ranks of mannequins that posed idly on white platforms, admiring each one in turn before discarding it to move onto a dress that was somehow brighter and more glamorous than the last. 

Granted, Dipper could certainly see the appeal of a nicely tailored suit, but he knew anything in the store was going to be out of his price range; he didn’t even bring any money with him so there was no point in getting his hopes up by browsing through the stock. Instead, he tried to find the upstanding individual that owned the shop, but  _ Spencer  _ was nowhere to be found - they and the mannequins were the only humanoid beings he could find. Odd.

This shop would be the first place he would rob if he were a thief, where was the security? He couldn't even see any cameras.

Pacifica and Mabel didn’t seem to need any help with shopping, and it seemed like they would be there for a while longer. Dipper sat himself down on a spotless bench next to an empty podium and leaned back against a wall as he closed his eyes and prepared for a lengthy wait. 

He didn’t know how long it had been, but he was roused from his shallow nap by the sound of rustling fabric to his right. Opening his eyes he found it was just a mannequin dressed in an enchanting suit, towering above him with a blank face and its hands suspended confidently by its sides. 

Mabel and Pacifica surfaced to his left and each of them had several dresses draped over their arms: Mabel seemed to unsurprisingly favor the brighter, more glittery dresses of the store, whereas Pacifica’s assortment seemed to mainly pertain to various shades of blue or purple - she would look like a Disney princess in any of them. 

“Haven't you picked anything to try on?” Pacifica asked, apparently surprised. 

“Nope. I don’t think I can even afford a sock from this place.”

Mabel looked horrified. “You need a suit to dance with Pacifica! You’re ruining my plan here bro!”

Pacifica scowled at her as she handed the dresses to Mabel. 

“Get up Dipper.”

Baffled, he rose and fidgeted uncomfortably as Pacifica looked him up and down for a second before disappearing into the sea of perfectly stitched masterpieces that surrounded them. She emerged a minute later, hanger in hand with a triumphant look on her face. She held the night-black suit next to him for a second before she seemed satisfied with her choice. Dipper took the hanger and stood there still confused as to what on earth was going on. 

Pacifica took back her dresses from Mabel. “There are only two changing rooms so you’re going to have to wait here while I try some things on Mabel.”

Dipper stared desperately between Mabel, Pacifica, and the suit he held in his hand and tried desperately to garner what was going on. Dancing? Suits? Pacifica? He needed a minute to process some things…

“Well, come on then Dipper.” Pacifica prompted as she spun on her heels and started towards the side of the store where two doors lay recessed into the wall a few meters apart, each just as spotless and nondescript as the other. Pacifica went for the one on the right, opening the door and turning back to Dipper as she passed through it. 

“I’m rarely wrong about outfits, but we’ll meet back so I can make sure. Don’t take too long.”

Dipper tried to protest, “Pacifica I’m not sure about th-” but it was too late, and he was cut off by the soft thump of the dressing room door as it closed softly with a click. He rarely bought many clothes, much less tried anything on. He had a vest, some t-shirts and a few pairs of pants - why would he need anything else?

It was a nice suit though… it felt kind of silky in his hands, and the fabric looked like it had been pulled from the night’s sky - a perfect black, devoid of any blemish or imperfection that shimmered under the light as if it were liquid. The stitching was so finite and nimble it was barely visible. Dipper could see the appeal, but he was careful not to check the price tag that was looped around the hanger - he didn’t want to know how much debt an outfit like this would put him in. 

He tugged the handle lightly and the door swung smoothly open without a sound, falling back into place behind him. 

Jeez, these things were expensive. Even for her, buying any of this was going to hurt. Pacifica tugged the lumberjack hat off her head and hung it gently on a hook.

It'd be worth the money though. If Mabel's proclamations of majesty and magnitude were anything to go by, she had big plans for this party, and there were going to be  ** a lot ** of faces there.

" _ Your makeup is a mess Pacifica. You'll embarrass us." _

_ "Azure blue Pacifica, not sapphire blue. Get out of those shoes now. We'll be a laughing stock." _

She tried not to care about who was going to be there, but a tiny part of her brain was incessant: she needed to be dressed to perfection, this was a big opportunity for the Northwests to boost their finances back up if she played the cards right - befriend a rich governor's son perhaps? Advertisement opportunity?

She took one of the dresses off the hanger. It was Prussian blue, cut off at the shoulders, and dazzled with just the right amount of glitter. Not very subtle and certainly not appropriate for formal dress, her parents wouldn’t approve. 

It didn't matter. This was going to be her night, and that part of her brain that wouldn't shut up - that bit of the old her that still remained - well, it would have to deal with it, as would her mother and father if they ever got wind of it. She was going to spend time with her friends, eat whatever she wanted, and maybe even dance if she lost all self-control. 

That didn't mean she was going to dress like a slob though and risk Mabel dethroning the party queen. She won it last time, and she planned to do it again. 

Pacifica examined herself in the mirror that blanketed the far side of the changing room wall: she was always told that ponytails were used by the lower classes to hide their scruffy, ill-kept hair. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing her hair billowing out behind her and it still seemed strange to her, but Dipper said it looked cute. Maybe it didn’t look  ** too ** bad...

The dress wasn’t too shabby either and its color did wonders for her eyes and it would go great with some shoes she had at home. Not bad, although for the price, it should come with a jetpack and a butler too. 

As she reached for the door handle she felt her heart rate soar and a wave of anxiety swamp her chest. This wasn’t some big photoshoot, just a quick try on - no reason for her to be jittery; The crowd outside wasn’t going to hound her for the wrong shoes or a bad color palette. The only people in the shop were Mabel and Dipper, and they wouldn't judge her so critically. 

Pacifica realized with disgust that she cared more about Dipper’s opinion than anyone else's right now. The modicum of respect that still remained for her parents meant that their skulduggery didn't matter to her anymore, but she panicked when a messy boy who smelt like pine needles and old books was in the room? What had she come to...

She glanced back once more into the mirror and tucked a stray hair behind her ear before she pushed the door and it swung open to the shop's bright interior, still just as silent and sterile as before. A mannequin loomed at the end of the aisle, flaunting a white oxford shirt and a tessellated black tie.

She looked around for the journal boy. Surely he'd be changed by now. It was only a suit, it didn't even have a waistcoat. What was taking him so long?

With a mixture of impatience and nervousness, she rapped her knuckles on the neighboring door. Would he like her dress? Did it suit her? 

"Dipper. What are you doing there? Do you not know how to put on a suit?. What's taking so long?"

Silence. She knocked again only to be greeted by the same hush. 

Pacifica risked it all, and pulled carefully on the door, expecting it to be locked. She covered her face as it swung open - she'd never be able to look him in the eyes again if she caught him half-dressed. Not to mention if Mabel caught wind of it, she’d be ruined.

She raised her eyes to carefully gaze around the room. His clothes lay strewn across the floor haphazardly and a lone hanger twisted idly on the wall.

"I swear to god Pines, if you're trying to be funny it's not working." She hoped he would jump out from somewhere, fall through the ceiling tiles even. Nothing; the room was empty. 

Maybe he'd just gotten changed and gone to find Mabel? Yeah, that was reasonable.

She turned to move back through the isles towards where they had left Mabel but the hem of her dress got caught on something. She turned and pried it out from underneath the foot of the featureless fashion model, before hurrying off to find Mabel. 

The hum of the airconditioning perpetuated the chilling silence of the shop, and suddenly the store didn’t seem so attractive. She shivered against the grim current of dry air that scraped against her exposed shoulders. Pacifica started to panic a bit. Dipper wouldn’t wander off without telling her, and she couldn't hear him and Mabel talking. Something didn’t feel right. 

Pacifica almost squealed when Mabel jumped into the aisle ahead of her, grinning from ear to ear as per usual. She had pulled one of the dresses over her sweater and skirt to create an abomination of brightly colored yarn and spotless white silk that made Pacifica retch inside. She better not be wearing that to the party. 

“Whad ya think Pa`-” Her voice trailed off into nothing but a murmur as her eyes became fixated on something behind Pacifica. 

She glanced down. A large shadow had been cast against the blanched tile floor around her, dwarfing her own and replacing it with a static cast of what lurked somewhere between her and the lights. The soft breeze of the AC that plagued her exposed skin had been replaced by a foretelling stillness.

Pacifica’s eyes were whirlwinds of dread as she looked up to gaze helplessly at Mabel, unsure of what to do. Between Mabel’s expression and the rare silence that hung heavy in the air, she was sure it wasn't a friendly store employee, and the shadow’s overbearing size meant it definitely wasn't Dipper.

Time to run? Yeah, probably... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon:
> 
> A rescue mission of pretty proportions...
> 
> I do try my best to keep it as close to canon as I can, but please use the comments to highlight anything that could be improved, or suggest anything you would like to see our favorite duo encounter in Gravity Falls.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you have enjoyed reading what I have posted so far. I have certainly enjoyed writing it!  
> I try to update as much as I can, but I can certainly be a slow writer and my work is subject to my own idiocy, so for my inconsistencies and mistakes I apologize.  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great day!  
> :)


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